


Raw from Fondness

by accol



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (dubcon typical of Peter), Biting, Bottom Peter Hale, M/M, Marking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Painplay, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sex Toys, Slapping, Wolfsbane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "wolfsbane."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raw from Fondness

“If I were inclined to be crass, I’d dare you.”  
  
Peter picked up the vial between finger and thumb. The smirk never got tiresome because now Chris knew how to read it.  
  
“We’ve talked about this,” Chris replied. He turned back to the gun oil and rag. It coated his fingers, dark in the lines of his knuckles. There was no way he was dosing Peter with that. Black vomit or death were the only outcomes. Definitely not what Peter thought he was going to get out of it.  
  
“Well, if I must: I  _dare_  you, Chris Argent, to make me beg.”  
  
Chris rubbed oil into the trigger mechanism. The idea of Peter under him, as close to human as he’d ever be, fragile in Chris’ grip… it appealed. “No. If you want to beg, I’ll get out the rope, and you can beg.”  
  
“Tsk, tsk. The old bag of tricks is stale. This,” Peter shook the vial and it caught the light. “This is a very new trick. And I want it.”  
  
Chris threw the rag into the gun case but didn’t look up.  
  
“Please,” Peter asked, saccharine sweet.   
  
Manipulation was Peter’s middle name. Chris knew Peter would never truly beg. That was the game. It was always Chris that begged, even if it was without words. He’d finally crack, forcing Peter into the exact thing Peter goaded him into. They’d fuck until they collapsed in a damp heap of sweat and come, sometimes blood. Chris knew his role after this long and Peter knew his.   
  
“You know you want to.”  
  
His grip on the gun barrel was white-knuckled. “You won’t be you. I won’t do that.”  
  
Peter sat on the edge of the desk. He pressed the vial into Chris’ fist. Mental images swirled, of Peter squirming, savoring the bruises around his wrists, slyly hinting tomorrow at the aches in his body.  
  
“Do it. Make me beg, Chris. Make me hurt. I want you to. I want to feel every inch of your cock, and I want to feel it for days before I heal.”  
  
“No.”  
  
Peter sighed dramatically. “I knew that’s what you’d say. Always so vanilla even when you know you want it. So, I took some myself preemptively.”  
  
“Peter,” Chris growled. He was upright and looming over Peter with a scowl. “You what?”  
  
“That’s more like it, hunter. Get mad. Put me in my place,” Peter taunted him.  
  
And Chris snapped. A hand on Peter’s throat, the surface of the desk swept bare with a jerk of his arm. “You are an idiot. Why do you do this kind of thing when I repeatedly ask you not to? You’re going to hurt yourself one of these times and…”  
  
“And what? Say it.”  
  
“And I love you despite my better judgment.”  
  
Peter beamed before his smile turned feral. “Then  _show_  me.” He rolled his hips below Chris, pressing the bulge in his pants against Chris’ hip.   
  
The growl that filled the study belonged to Chris. He tore at Peter’s clothes, pulling at his henley until it trapped Peter’s wrists above his head. Chris sucked at the bend of Peter’s shoulder and neck until the mark stayed, purple and livid. It stayed.  
  
Peter stayed. Every day he  _stayed_ , and Chris never stopped wondering when he’d leave with no explanation. Boredom, maybe. It would hurt when it happened.  
  
“I brought presents,” Peter said, interrupting Chris’ distraction. He shoved his pants down and drew his knees up. “Do you like it?”  
  
Chris drew his thumb around the base of the plug that Peter was wearing. Slick coated his finger.  
  
“Hurt a bit more than usual when it shoved it in, but isn’t that tonight’s theme?” Peter coaxed Chris to meet his eyes with a dip of his head. “It’s going to hurt better when it’s your cock.”  
  
“Is now when you beg?” Chris flicked the bottom of the rubber toy. Peter jolted and then angled his hips for more. Chris pulled, feeling the toy make Peter’s hole stretch. He shoved it back inside.  
  
“Fuck,” Peter hissed quietly. “Hm,” he said with a shrug, composing himself again. “Probably not yet.” His thumb was pressing on the mark Chris had made on the base of his neck. Pressing hard. Chris was sure it ached and throbbed with every heartbeat. Chris felt his dick respond the same.  
  
Chris swatted Peter’s thumb away and tightened his hand around Peter’s throat, flexing his fingers until his nails pressed hard along the tendons. Peter’s eyes flashed bright blue, but the shift that sometimes came in moments like this couldn’t go further. The wolfsbane was keeping Peter caged, just like he’d asked for.  
  
Once, Peter had teased Chris that his eyes were just as electric blue, maybe that meant something about his soul too. Now, blood rushed in Chris’ ears at the sight of Peter spread out under him, squirming against the hard tabletop, ass stretched around black rubber.   
  
“Do it.”  
  
“Beg.”  
  
“Make me.”  
  
Chris scratched his nails down the center of Peter’s chest, leaving livid streaks on his flesh that lingered.   
  
“Beg.”  
  
“No. More first.” Peter’s eloquence was already getting lost. It wouldn’t be long.  
  
Chris jammed his thigh against the plug, shoving it deeper. He closed his fist around the head of Peter’s cock with no preamble and squeezed. Just as fast, he let go and backed away.  
  
Peter writhed. “I said  _more_.”  
  
“Beg then.” Perhaps Peter had been right. Chris deserved his blue eyes too.  
  
“Give it to me. Your cock should be in me.”  
  
“That’s not begging.” Chris stepped forward and slapped Peter’s nipple hard, leaving behind a reddened handprint as Peter cried out.  
  
Peter’s nostrils flared with anger and need. His eyes were electric blue again for a moment. Then he turned over, gripping the sides of the table until it creaked. His ass was on display, and his hard cock was pushed to point downward by the edge of the table. Flesh strained. Peter strained, but this was his idea. Chris was going to make him follow through.  
  
Chris gripped himself, watching Peter’s back rise and fall with rapid breaths. He tapped the plug with his cock, slapping Peter’s ass with his length. He curled his hands around Peter’s hips and dug his fingers into the muscles. It’d leave marks.  
  
Peter grunted. “God, fuck. Mark me. Do it.”  
  
Chris complied, biting hard into the round flesh of Peter’s ass until Peter yelped. The skin went from white to bright pink as the blood flowed back into the bite. He bit him again, round circles of blunt teeth. And again, this time on the side over his ribs where the bone was close and it’d hurt more.   
  
“Chris! Shit,  _please_!”  
  
Finally. Chris yanked the plug out and tossed it aside, shoving his cock inside Peter before his gaping ass had a chance to close.   
  
“I am going to fuck you until you beg me to stop,” Chris growled. He leveraged himself up with a knee on the table to improve the downward angle, and he hammered his body onto him. It was punishing, aim true, and Peter was making the most deliciously pained noises. Chris had been in this position before. That mixture of pain and pleasure that Peter could generate in him, where he thought he’d go insane if it went on  _or_  if it stopped.   
  
Chris wasn’t going to stop now. He grabbed two handfuls of Peter's left hip and drove into him again and again. Peter’s hole was stretched and lubed. That ridge and then the hot smoothness, pulling out and starting again in a breath.   
  
Peter tensed and shook beneath him. “Chris,” he gasped. His muscles pulsed around Chris as he came, spilling onto the floor.   
  
But Chris didn’t stop fucking him. He didn’t stop imagining himself in Peter’s position, taking the abuse and wanting every second of the overstimulation because it emptied his mind of everything but Peter. Finally Peter was in that position. Finally he was truly in that position, with the wolfsbane making his body feel the pain acutely to give a spice, a sharp note to his orgasm that his wolf never let him feel.   
  
Chris’ own orgasm threatened, but Peter hadn’t tapped out.   
  
“Fuck, I can’t-- Yes, Chris, break me. Yours. Wolf… human,” he panted.   
  
One more brutal thrust, and Peter’s words broke Chris open. Finally tonight made sense. Peter was always curious, poking at sore spots, and wolfsbane was him trying to feel what it was like for Chris when their positions were reversed. Chris marked him on the inside with a yell.   
  
Chris smiled against Peter’s too-hot skin as his softening cock slid free. He felt raw with fondness. They deserved each other.


End file.
